


Just Like Sophia

by EyeInTheDark



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt!Daryl, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 21:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2402753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyeInTheDark/pseuds/EyeInTheDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had failed again...Just like he had with Sophia...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like Sophia

Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead or any of it's characters. All I own here is the plot :)

* * *

 

Shock. Pure and utter shock is what appears on Daryl's face.

He can't believe what he's hearing. Can't understand what he did wrong. Rick is yelling at him. No, the ex-lawman is outrightly _screaming_ at him. Raging at him like a tornado.

Daryl tries to ignore it when Rick takes a threatening step toward him, but his legs have a mind of their own as he takes a step back, cowering slightly as the man he thought he could trust looms over him angrily.

"Why didn't you just keep an eye on him?!!" Rick screams, whirling in the oposite direction as a sob catches in his throat. "He's out there somewhere...just like Sophia..."

Daryl feels his heart stop for half a beat.

Just like Sophia...

Carl was out there alone, just like Sophia. What if he couldn't find the boy?...Just like Sophia. What if, when they did find him, he was already dead and turned?...Just like Sophia.

Daryl is off and running before Rick can start yelling at him again, scrambling through one of the bolt-holes in the fence and racing for the woods. He has to make this right, he has to find Carl before it's too late. _He just has to._

~*#*~

Daryl tracks the boy for hours, and when he finally finds him, the sky and woods growing dark, he nearly bursts into tears.

He's too late. Carl is already a walker.

He puts a bolt in the boys head, feeling tears stinging his eyes. He had failed again. Just like he had with Sophia.

How on earth was he going to tell Rick?

He didn't get a chance. A moment later, someone body-slammed him, knocking him to the ground. It was Rick, he realized, his leader was punching him in the face, screaming obscenities and cursing him like a wild man.

"YOU KILLED HIM!! YOU KILLED HIM!!" Rick ranted franticly, hitting Daryl in the face over and over again. "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!! JUST LIKE SOPHIA!! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!!"

Daryl is crying now, tears mixing with the blood pouring from his face as he tries to explain himself, tries to make Rick understand, tries to ease the guilt churning in his stomach with every slap and punch he receives.

"It wasn't my fault! I tried! I tried!!" he sobs, wailing like a child when Rick starts kicking him brutally. "It wasn't my fault!!"

It's not until Rick lunges at him, brandishing his own buck knife, that Daryl screams in terror.

Rick plunges the knife into his chest, and Daryl is suddenly swallowed by neverending blackness.

~*#*~

"Daryl, wake up!"

His eyes snap open, darting about wildly as he tries desperately to focus on something. Anything.

"It's alright," Rick soothes, patting his shoulder. "You're okay."

"Wha---" he slurs slightly, feeling confused and alone. What on earth was going on?

"Just lay still," Rick says, glancing over his shoulder. "One of the support poles gave while we were pickin' off some of that herd hangin' on the fence. You got clocked pretty good there, man."

Daryl slowly sits up, looking around distrustingly. "You're not mad at me?"

"What?" Rick looks concerned. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Carl...he wandered off..." Daryl tried to explain, closing his eyes as a sudden bout of vertigo blurred his vision sickeningly. "You---we---He was turned when I found 'im...You...you hated me...You blamed me...You..."

"Carl's fine, he didn't wander off, and I would never do that," Rick smiles reassuringly. "When have I ever blamed you, Daryl? And besides, I should be thanking you. You knocked Carl outta the way just in time."

Daryl lays back, allowing Hershel to probe the side of his head with his withered fingers when he finally hobbles over.

"You've got a minor concussion, son," Hershel says after a few moments of careful examination. "But you should be fine with a few days rest."

Daryl sighs in agreement, content to know it was all just a horrible nightmare. A fever dream.

Rick didn't hate him. Nothing was his fault. It was _not_ "just like Sophia".

Not even a little bit.

 


End file.
